


Other People's Heartaches

by Anonymous



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Bucky Barnes, Twink Peter Parker, hurt!Peter, messed up relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-07 00:12:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17355290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Tony had signed the accords, but he'd never thought about how they would affect the friendly, neighborhood Spiderman. After one too many accidents, the government brings Peter in, and Tony can do nothing, but watch from the other side of the glass when Peter is imprisoned in the Raft. Or, that is Tony can do nothing personally. And yet, there are two people who can help. When Peter is saved by none other than Captain America and the Winter Soldier, the boy's world view is turned upside down. Pushed away from his hero, Peter turns on who he once thought he was and instead becomes obsessed with becoming someone Tony would never want him to be. Unfortunately, reckless behavior can often lead to shattered glass.





	1. Wild World (Intro)

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a work in progress, but I got really inspired by Bastille's album Other People's Heartaches 4, and decided to write a fic based off of the songs... Just fyi, the pairing is underage in America, though in Germany (where the fic will take place) the age of consent is 16, so....? Anyway, read with caution.  
> Also each chapter is named after a song on the Bastille album and the songs can be listened to along with the chapter titles.

_Ooh, baby, baby, it's a wild world_   
_It's hard to get by, just upon a smile, girl_   
_Ooh, baby, baby, it's a wild world_   
_I'll always remember you, just like a child, girl_

* * *

Wild World (Intro)

    The Winter Soldier, some say, is like someone, or something, from a nightmare. Hydra had never been anything but despicable, that much was clear, yet their work seemed to leave an equally bad taste in the mouth. When fear grips at someone’s heart, when raw emotions and memories are triggered, it’s hard to think straight. Tony had always known that to be true, but he hadn’t realized how personally this fact would affect him. The accords were over, the fight was over, and yet that bad taste still swished in his mouth, just as pungent as the liquor that he washed down his throat every night. Had Steve known it was Bucky? It was nearly impossible to come to a conclusion about that. But he had known the nature of the Starks’ death, and that was enough.

    Days turned into weeks, which turned into months. It was easy to put on a front. Tony had done it for years. Peter hadn’t known, Happy hadn’t known, and Pepper had only suspected. Timing was everything. Drinking at night, when Pepper had business to attend to, when Tony could get away with locking himself in his lab. Maybe if he hadn’t been so drunk all the time he could’ve stopped this. Unfortunately, every second of sobriety had been spent on other matters. The Accords were signed, but there was a hitch. Tony and his associates now operated under government control. No more vigilantism. The rules were simple: Only small heroics, otherwise get permission of call the FBI, which Tony had.

Unfortunately one superhuman, Peter Parker, had overstepped these boundaries. Tony had made the rules simple, Peter had broken them, and Peter had proven himself to Stark Industries. The government, however, was less than impressed.

This is what they’d tried to avoid, apparently. Because of the irresponsibility of a teenager, the ferry had nearly been destroyed. Because of the irresponsibility of a teenager, the Washington Monument was now nearly irreparably damaged. Because of the irresponsibility of a teenager, a plane had nearly crashed into New York City. Tony had given a stern talking to Peter, but the government didn’t work like that. He’d gotten the call this morning. Spiderman had been acquired this morning and, due to his abilities, he had been transported to the Raft for holding. The government was not thinking of giving Spiderman a firm talking to, that much was clear. When he’d gotten the call, Tony had tried to reason with the government that this person, this Spiderman, might simply not understand the new law, but the government didn’t care. Spiderman was a child, the government didn’t care. Tony had signed the Accords, he’d advocated for them, and now according to the accords Spiderman was to be interrogated, and then kept in the Raft until a ‘cure’ could be found which would strip this vigilante of his powers, at which point he would be reevaluated for levels of danger to the public. There had been too many incidents, the plane crash was the last straw.

Growling loudly, Tony smashed his tumbler against the counter, the glass fracturing from the force. A soft sound behind him made Tony spin, and he flushed when he spotted Happy standing there.

“What’re doing you idiot? Get out of here, I didn’t ask for you!” Tony spat, but Happy only shifted his weight and swallowed hard.

“The jet? You asked for the jet? It’s ready,” Happy murmured.

“Oh, oh yes,” Tony murmured, slowly placing the tumbler aside. “Yes, you’re right, I’m sorry. It’s ready? Good. Good, very good. I’ll be leaving immediately.”

“Sir, before you go,” Happy shifted again. “Is everything true, what’s being said on the news?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Tony replied, before sweeping from the room.

***

    He had never been so cold in his entire life. There was a permanent dampness in the air that chilled him to the bone, and so far Peter had been provided with no more than a thin jumpsuit. So far, Peter wasn’t so much scared as he was angry and confused. There had been no warning. One moment, Peter had been relaxing on the couch, watching one of his old favorite movies and waiting for May to come home so they could celebrate, the next people were banging at his door and demanding him to open it. Peter hadn’t put up a fight, not really, he was in too much shock. He hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to May, or Ned. Did May know where he was? Peter didn’t even know where he was.

“Prisoner 25?” a voice spoke through some sort of speaker, and Peter jumped to attention, looking around for the source of the voice. “Prisoner 25, you have a visitor. Stand and approach the glass.”

“You guys allow visitors here? Where ever here is?     Who is it? Is it Aunt May?” Peter asked, standing and approaching the glass as requested.

“No, afraid not,” was his reply, and Peter nearly jumped with joy when he saw the man who was approaching.

“Mr Stark!” Peter’s face lit up. “You’re here! What’s going on? Where am I? What’s happening? These guys just showed up and claimed to be from the US government! They said I was under arrest for breaking these things, the Acorns? What’s going on? I think they messed up or something. Are you here to bring me home?”

Tony was silent for a moment as he surveyed the child. There was such hope in his eyes. There was an innocence there that Tony vaguely wondered about. Had he ever had that kind of innocence? It seemed unlikely. His father had never been warm, and his mother struggled to be as close as a normal family. Tensions were two high between the two Stark men. And then it had all come crashing down. No, no Tony was sure he’d never looked like that.

“Mr Stark?”

“I’m sorry, what? I missed all of that. Did you say you wanted to go home? No, I’m afraid that won’t be possible. We are currently standing in the world’s most powerful prison, the Raft. It is where the world’s most dangerous criminals are kept, especially if those individuals are enhanced. You listen to me. I told you when to stop, I gave you rules, I made them very clear. I told you to leave Tones alone, I said I would handle it. You never listened, not even when I took the suit away. Now we’re dealing with the consequences. Vigilante heroics has been outlawed. The Accords were signed, the laws were put in place, and so you fall under those laws. You are here because you broke those law, you broke the Accords.”

“Accords? Mr Stark, I don’t understand. What’s going on? What do you mean I can’t go home?” Peter’s voice was small, and his optimistic gaze flickered, if only a little.

“Was I not clear? You cannot go home. Look, I told you, I told you to stop, and you didn’t.”

“You gave the suit back, you said I was doing a good job-”

“I was wrong, okay? And now we’re both dealing with the consequences. The Accords were written for a good reason, to prevent people with enhanced abilities from making mistakes that would cost lives. When I signed the Accords, it was with the understanding that they applied to everyone, even me. There’s a reason I called the FBI rather than show up myself on that ship. We can no longer operate on our own terms, whenever and however we like.”

“Look, I just want to home,” Peter broke in, his breath speeding up a bit. It broke Tony’s heart to see the way his eyes nearly clouded with tears before the boy pushed them away, placing his palms against the glass. “I never said anything to May! What if she’s worried? I never even said goodbye or anything! We were going out for a nice dinner tonight. Mr Stark, I… It’s my birthday… I’ve gotta get home. I can’t worry her. I’m sorry, I never meant to break any laws! I…”

“Well you did,” Tony burst out. “I want for you to go home too, I want that very much, but this is out of my hands now. You should’ve stopped, you should’ve listened to me, and I should have never given the suit back. I was being stupid. But now we deal with the consequences. I’m going to be facing trail myself for giving your suit back. In the meantime, you’ll be staying here.”

“Staying here?” Peter yelped, his hair falling into his face with the velocity at which he was shaking his head. “Mr Stark, please, you’ve got to get me out of here! I’ve got to get back to Aunt May! You don’t understand, I can’t do this to her! Please, please you’ve got to make them understand. I never want to break laws, I… Please, you’ve got to talk to them!”

“I already tried. I told you, this is out of my hands. Your Aunt will be informed that you are now in custody. With any luck you’ll be out of here sometime within the next year-”

“Next year!” Peter’s breaths came faster, his chest heaving with the shock of the information being presented to him.

“If we’re lucky,” Tony grit his teeth. “It depends upon how fast they find the cure.”

“Cure? Cure for what?” Peter yelped.

“The cure. For your bite. Your powers are to be removed.” Tony’s voice was utterly blank of emotion, despite the way his chest ached from the inside out. The way the boy’s face dropped only further cemented the guilt bubbling up inside Tony.

“Removed?” Peter whimpered, his hands trembling against the glass. “No… No, please, I must get a trial! I must get something!”

“I’m sorry,” Tony murmured. “It’s out of my hands. I signed the Accords. You broke the Accords. These are the consequences.”

“You… You signed them? You agreed to this? You… No, no please, please you have to contact my aunt, you have to get me out of here! Please, please, Mr Stark, you don’t understand, please! I’m sorry, please-”

“I’m sorry, Peter,” Tony murmured. “I’ll visit.”

“No, no please! Don’t let them take them! Please bring my aunt? Please bring me home? No! No please, Mr Stark! Mr Stark come back, please! Please, you can’t leave me here! Please, please come back! No, please!”

Tony shut his eyes as he stepped into the elevator and the doors clicked shut behind him. They were quick to snap open, however, and he surveyed the elevator for cameras. Nothing. Nodding to himself, Tony removed a small, plastic screwdriver from his shirtsleeve and undid a bolt on the electrical panel. Slipping the tracking device inside, Tony quickly screwed the panel back in place. Stepping from the elevator, the man stalked towards his helicopter. A few words were exchanged, and then his hair whipped in the wind generated by the machine.

“We need to get you out of here immediately, Mr Stark,” the man in the helicopter spoke worriedly as Tony strapped himself in. “Unidentified craft approaching.”

“Let’s move then,” Tony nodded, casting a final glance down at the prison, before they took him, his hand moving slowly over the flip phone kept securely in his pocket.

 


	2. The Descent

 

_Tell me how it feels to be on the outside with your hands on the glass_   
_'Cause we know it's the easiest thing in the world to be that cynical_

_I looked up to you_   
_I trusted you_   
_I put faith in you, guess that's what you do_   
_Now I'll stare you out as you pass me on the way down_

* * *

_“Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries and spokesperson for the Avengers, is facing severe criticism after his first trial date revealed that he, in fact, returned Spider-Man’s suit after the enhanced human nearly crashed a plane into New York City. Stark has stated, during the trial, that the return of the suit was his doing, and he was uninfluenced by the crime fighting spider. Further scandal rose when Stark was found intoxicated after crash landing his Iron Man suit into a New York Bank’s glass windows in Queens. Police state that Stark was not, in fact, attempting to rob the bank, but instead simply lost control of the suit due to high levels of alcohol found in his blood at the time of the accident. Stark stated that he was patrolling the area, looking for signs of crime, but this faces further criticism as this kind of patrolling breaks the accords that Stark, in fact, signed. Stark was physically uninjured in this incident, but the bank is filing a lawsuit and it seems that Stark has a long road ahead of him…”_

“Hey, kid, you shouldn’t be watching that.”

Peter looked up as the TV screen fizzled out. Steve was loosely gripping the TV remote in his hand, concern causing his eyebrows to draw together. After a moment, he sat beside Peter on the couch, eyes studying Peter.

“Why not?” Peter demanded softly.

“Well… It’s Tony. You two were close, right? He’s just going through a lot right now. You can’t really blame him. I think it’s been hard for him since… Well for a while, really,” Steve sighed softly, but his eyebrows raised in surprise when Peter pulled away from Steve’s arm, which had moved to drape around his shoulders.

“I don’t think close is a good description,” Peter murmured, gaze dropped firmly into his lap. “I already told you, he visited me there and he… he didn’t care. He agreed with them! He just… he just walked away. He just left me… He said he’d never leave me, not like B… Anyway, who cares? Who cares if he’s having issues now? I mean… I mean I don’t care. Maybe now he understand how it feels.”

“Kid…” Steve murmured, moving to touch the boy’s shoulder, but once again Peter flinched away.

“I just want to be alone,” Peter murmured. “I don’t care, I don’t care that you said he called you. You and Bucky were the ones who got me out. He just… He just left me…”

“He couldn’t, you know that. Bucky and I, we’re already criminals. Tony… he has too much riding on his shoulders right now. He couldn’t break you out.”

“Yeah, there’s more important things than me. I get it. Look, I just want to be alone for a while, okay? Please?”

“Okay kid,” Steve sighed. Still, for a moment the man clasped Peter’s shoulder, before standing and slipping back into the tiny office (more like a coat closet) that their current apartment had.

The moment Peter was sure Captain America was gone, his head dropped into his hands and Peter squeezed his eyes shut. The last few days had been too much too quickly. The feeling of abandonment, of emptiness, was still too strong and ate away at Peter’s heart as if it was a five course meal. In reality, he’d only been sitting there after Mr Stark’s departure for about a half hour when a sound of gunshots had echoed off the walls, leaving Peter shaking as another bullet cut through his mind. He’d been curled up, trembling, when the glass in front of his cell had shattered. Curious despite himself, Peter had looked up to find two masked men standing there. Half fascinated and half terrified, Peter had demanded to know who they were and why they were there.

The response to his question had been…. exactly zero, and one of the men simply stepped forward to firmly grip his bicep. The grip hadn’t been violent. In fact, it was almost friendly somehow, a gentle squeeze, not at all like he’d been expecting. After an urgent tug, Peter decided that wherever they were going couldn’t be worse than here, so he followed him, jogging after them past unconscious guards (at least he hoped they were unconscious. The thought of anything else turned his stomach.)

After ascending in an elevator, the two men had quickly escorted Peter outside and over to a rope ladder leading down to what appeared to be a small submarine. Peter nearly balked, yet the sound of footsteps thundering out onto the platform had jumpstared him into action. Within moments he’d scrambled down the ladder, tucking himself safely into the tiny sub. Their escape into the depths had been hasty and made Peter’s ears pop, before the two men pulled their masks off and revealed that he’d been broken out of jail by none other than Captain America and the Winter Soldier.

After the initial shock had worn off, Peter had started rattling off more questions than either man had time or energy to answer. Peter did learn, though, that they were on their way to northern Germany, that he was now a refugee, and that he would not be allowed to contact anyone, be them in America or otherwise. At first he’d protested, but learning that any such contact would simply place Aunt May in more danger, and jeopardize Peter, Steve, and Bucky in the process, had resulted in Peter’s slow acceptance.

Now the three of them were residing in a small apartment in Hamburg in a district where no one asked questions. Peter was given strict instructions to never leave the apartment, though he could see from the window that the worst areas in Queens had never quite looked like this. Suffice to say, Peter didn’t have any strong urges to get mixed up in the world out there. And yet still, even the smallest thoughts of Tony Stark bubbled anger into Peter’s chest.

Peter knew it was illogical. He knew he was normally not an angry person, and he knew that in the end, Tony had done the right thing and called someone to save him. And yet…. Something had snapped in Peter that afternoon. Some deep, chipped part of his being had turned from a crevice into a canyon, and now he ached, and ached, and ached.

“Hey, hey kid, deep breaths, yeah? You’re okay, you’re safe remember? Maybe I should call Steve in here…”

“No! No, I don’t want to talk to him right now,” Peter looked up, wiping his eyes and forcing his breaths to come out nice and slow again. “Sorry, I’m good. Hey Bucky. What’re you doing?”

“I was getting some water, but then I got sidetracked,” the man chuckled. Genuinely chuckled. It was odd, and somehow almost soothing to see the man publicized as a hardened criminal break into a sheepish smile. Peter hadn’t fully understood the fight in Germany when Mr Stark had recruited him, but he knew that the Winter Soldier did have something to do with it. He knew that Tony hated Bucky, or something, but the man in front of him now didn’t seem at all deserving of hatred.

“Sorry,” Peter murmured, though he couldn’t help but break into a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I was just thinking about everything.”

“Steve said that you’re mad at Tony Stark?”

“It’s a… complicated thing,” Peter replied. “It’s not just him. I just… I guess I’ve lost someone before, and sometimes I can’t stop thinking about it. But the other person, it felt like my fault, you know? But they didn’t mean to leave. He killed him and just… Sorry, anyway, ever since then I’ve sort of had an issue where I think about people leaving, sometimes, and when Mr Stark didn’t even care, when he just walked away… See he knew, you know? He knows I have a issue, and he didn’t care, he didn’t even pretend to care, he just left. And now he’s doing all this stuff on the news, and I know it’s wrong but… But somehow I don’t think I’m as sad as I should be for him… Sometimes I’m almost…”

“It’s okay to be angry,” Bucky spoke up, sighing as he pushed his long hair out of his eyes, which momentarily diverted themselves to the carpet. “It’s understandable.”

“I’m not just angry. I know it’s wrong, and I’m not normally like this but… I know it’s wrong, but some part of me almost thinks that he… You know, that he… Well, that he deserves it. Sorry, it’s messed up, I shouldn’t have said that, sorry,” Peter sighed, turning away and curling his knees up to his chest. Bucky’s face was utterly unreadable for a moment, his eyes examining Peter almost clinically, before they softened considerably.

“It sounds like you’ve been through a lot,” Bucky murmured sympathetically.

“But see that’s the thing! So have you, right? I don’t really understand much of it, but after Germany, the first time, I tried to look stuff up, you know? To understand better. I also tried to talk to Happy, and to Mr Stark, about it once. It didn’t end very well. Anyway, thing is, he didn’t care, you know? Like, I don’t understand much of it, but I got that you’d been through something really bad, and they they weren’t sure that you were guilty, but that Mr Stark didn’t care, and he just… He wanted to stop you anyway? He wanted me to stop you. And that makes me wonder if maybe he really doesn’t care about anyone, you know? You were all his friends right? Or not you, but Steve and that guy with the wings. You were his friends, and he didn’t care. He wanted to turn you over to the government, to put you all in jail! The same way he just… let me get put in jail. And I thought maybe it was because you all really did do something bad, maybe you were all really bad criminals. But I… He just let me get put in jail, and now I’m not even sure you all are even really criminals… So I feel like maybe he just… Pretends. Maybe he has friends when it’s convenient and then just… He just leaves!”

“Kid… All this stuff, it’s very complicated. I think you should be talking to Steve, he’s… Better at this.”

“But Steve doesn’t get it,” Peter muttered. “He just starts talking about how Tony’s going through a lot, and how I shouldn’t really be angry, and how Tony was trying to do the right thing… And the thing is, I’m not sure I believe that anymore.”

“Let me give you a piece of advice,” Bucky told Peter, turning so that he could better face the boy. “Anger is not a good thing. It’s not a good emotion. I can say that first hand. But I can also say that it’s okay to… To be angry sometimes, over some things. Just don’t… Don’t let it take over, huh? Now I need some water, and you need to do something besides watch that TV.”

“Did Steve tell you to tell me that?” Peter raised his eyebrows.

“Look, watch some... kid shows and then both of us can stop hearing him complain.”

“I was lucky enough to find a news channel in English, there’s no way there’s going to be a kids channel in English,” Peter chuckled softly. “Besides, I’m not a kid.”

“Sure, kid,” Bucky chuckled. It took Peter a long moment, but he realized that the strange, dark eyed man was joking with him, and Peter broke into a smile. If anything, though, Peter’s anger only bubbled up more inside him. This was the dangerous, hardened criminal who Mr Stark harboured so much hatred towards? The man who Stark was determined to put behind bars forever? Had Peter ever really known Mr Stark at all? The man had almost seemed like a hero, had almost reminded Peter of someone he could strive to be like. Now all of that was ruined. Ironman felt like nothing more than an empty suit with nothing more than an iron heart, utterly incapable of caring.

“Hey, I know that look,” Bucky interrupted Peter’s train of thought. “Kid, I know we said not to go outside but… When’s the last time you saw the sun?”

“What, you mean not been trapped behind a locked door? Uh, about a week ago, when I was kidnapped on my birthday,” Peter muttered bitterly.

“That was your birthday?” Bucky’s jaw dropped.

“Yeah, I’m sixteen. Happy sweet sixteen, hm?” Peter sighed.

“Look, I know we said we can’t go outside, but I think it sounds like you need a little pick-me-up. Besides, neither of us had any idea that it was your birthday.”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised that Mr Stark didn’t mention it,” Peter muttered.

“Anyway,” Bucky broke in. “You know what I did on my sixteenth birthday?”

“Go for a picnic lunch on your horse or something?” Peter teased, raising his eyebrows.

“Look kid, I’m not that old, we did have cars back in the 40s… Oh you’re kidding,” Bucky broke into a soft chuckle. “No, no my 16th birthday was much more fun than that. Come on, d’you want me to show you?”

“Show me what?” Peter raised his eyebrows.

“The best bar in Hamburg. See, when I was sixteen it was the tradition around Brooklyn to get absolutely wrecked, and even better it’s actually legal here. How’s that sound?” Bucky grinned, and something shown in his eyes that made Peter’s heart warm. It was a look that Peter had seen in a museum picture of James “Bucky” Barnes, once a war hero now forever displayed as a piece of Captain America’s history. This look in his eyes, it was one of youth, of a time before the Hydra debacle, and Peter flashed a smile, which slowly faded.

“I mean… Are you sure? I was kinda thinking of waiting until I was 21. You know, just because… Well, if my aunt was here she’d freak, you know? Let alone Tony…” He’d go on about how Peter was supposed to be better than him, Peter could already hear his voice in his ears. And yet… Slowly, a grin grew over Peter’s face, and then he let out a slow, tiny nod. “Actually, no, you’re right. Gotta do it sometime, don’t I? And besides, like you said, I am legal here. Only thing is I don’t have my ID…”

“Oh, not to worry, Tony shipped some of your stuff here,” Bucky waved his hand, unconcerned. “He shipped you a real ID, a fake ID, your suit, a few other things too. Didn’t you notice them in your room?”

“Oh… No, I saw a box but I guess I’ve been avoiding my room,” Peter admitted softly, biting his lip. “He really sent all that? He sent me the suit?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded. “He figured you’d want some momentos. You okay kid?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. Sorry, just thinking. Well, what’re we waiting for? One sec, I’m going to get dressed, and then let’s take off, yeah? I’m so ready for this,” Peter flashed a grin, before dashing off and flicking through the small closet of clothes Steve and Bucky had scrounged up for him in a variety of places ranging from thrift shops to (he guessed) garbage cans. Choosing a pair of jeans that were just a little too small, a black t-shirt with a faded Beatles logo on it, and a windbreaker, Peter grinned at himself in the mirror. He prepared to bounce out of the room, when he heard talking out in the living room, and he hesitated.

“A bar? Come on, Bucky, he’s barely legal. You shouldn’t be taking him to a bar,” someone was complaining. Steve, of course he wouldn’t like the idea. Peter could practically hear Bucky’s eye roll in his soft scoff.

“Come on, you remember being sixteen, don’t you? Those were the days, Steve, those were the good days. This kid, his life has just been pulled out from under him. He’s falling apart in this hole in the wall. I agree, we can’t go anywhere with coverage, but a bar in Hamburg? No one’s going to notice or care if we’re there. And don’t worry, I won’t let him get as drunk as you did on your sixteenth, I promise. I won’t let him get in a fist-fight either, though something tells me he’d come out much better than you did.”

“Look, that was different. This kid, he’s already been through enough, and he’s already in danger. We’re keeping him in the house because it’s the safest thing for him. Tony entrusted this kid to us…”

“Tony did? Yes, great influence he was on the kid,” Bucky muttered, and Peter found himself smiling despite himself. “Anyway, the kid’s sixteen, that’s old enough to be choosing for himself here.”

“Look, you and I, we already don’t know what we’re doing, but I know this is a bad idea. He’s a good kid, a better kid than either of us ever were. Don’t mess that up for him,” Steve stated firmly. “You’re not going. We’ll do something here to celebrate, you’re not taking him to a bar.”

“Fine,” Peter’s voice cut through the room, jarring both men who spun to raise their eyebrows at the boy. “Bucky won’t take me, it’s fine, I’ll just go on my own. I’ve got my ID, I can take care of myself, it’ll be fine. Thanks for the offer Bucky, but I don’t want you guys to argue over me. But I need to get out of this house. Please?”

“No. No you’re not going to a bar,” Steve insisted again. Peter bit his lip, frowning slightly.

“Look, I’m not breaking any rules, any laws by going. I’ll come back before ten, okay? Promise. I just have to get out of this apartment. I can’t stay here right now, okay? Please?”

Steve’s teeth ground together slightly, but finally his eyes flickered. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Bucky and muttered softly to him.

“You put this idea in his head, then fine, you go look after him. We can’t all three go, we’ll be too easily recognized. I’ll stay here and guard the apartment. But I’m trusting you Bucky. Seriously. This isn’t Brooklyn, 1938. We already have enough trouble, so-”

“I know how to take care of myself,” Bucky replied softly. “The other day, you said you’d trust me. I won’t let anything happen to him. I promise.”

“I’m keeping you to that,” Steve replied, before finally stepping away with a sigh and nodding once at Peter. “You take care, alright? Back before ten, you said? Peter, wait. Happy birthday, okay? Just… Stay safe. Oh, and bring the fake ID, I don’t want that bar getting your real name.”

“Promise,” Peter echoed Bucky. He raced back into his room to grab the fake ID (which labeled him as Pietro Freitag, before nearly skipping over to the door and flouncing out of the apartment, leaving Steve to sigh and rub the back of his neck.

***

    The bar, as it turned out, was dark with flickering neon lights. It smelled relatively bad, but none of that seemed to concern Bucky in the least, so Peter trailed after him and tried to look like his heart wasn’t pounding out of his chest. Shoving away a few regretful thoughts (he was beginning to wonder if maybe he should’ve stayed home to watch kid shoes in German), Peter trailed after Bucky tried not to cover his ears against the pounding music. Peter very purposefully didn’t look at a couple vigorously dancing in a way he knew Aunt May would be appalled at, and slowly slid onto the stool next to Bucky.

    The other man spoke to the bartender in German, nodding once towards Peter. The man raised his eyebrows, and Bucky murmured that Peter needed to take his ID out. Fumbling with his pocket, Peter fished out the ID, which the bartender examined carefully, before nodding once and then lumbering off to fill up two pints.

    “So,” Bucky turned, raising his eyebrows. “What do you think?”

    “Well,” Peter hesitated. His initial thought was that he wanted to get out of there, asap, but another thought also lingered under his skin, and slowly he nodded. “It’s great, really. I’ve never been anywhere like this, to be honest, but it’s great.”

    “Exactly,” Bucky nodded, clasping a hand quickly onto his shoulder, before turning back to the bar to grab the pint that was now resting in front of him. Taking a swig, the man grinned. “Best bar in Hamburg.”

    Peter eyed his drink hesitantly, and nearly gagged after the first sip, yet still he cast an encouraging smile at Bucky and managed a quick, “Yeah, for sure!”

“Aw, kid, you know you don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to,” Bucky’s face fell slightly, and a tad of sympathy flickered over it as he chuckle. “Don’t worry, my old friend, Will, he couldn’t handle the stuff. He always stuck to club sodas and the like. This is your day, your birthday, don’t choke down this stuff if you don’t even like it. It’s not worth it, believe me. On Stevie’s birthday… well, let’s just say he didn’t handle any of it. He drank it, but didn’t handle it, at all. Don’t worry about it.”

“No, no I do like it!” Peter lied. “It’s great, sorry, I was just surprised.”

“No, don’t apologize kid. You’re sure?”

“Absolutely,” Peter grinned, gulping down another chgu and managing to not even grimace.

And so, that’s how the evening went. The bar got more crowded the closer it got to ten. Somehow the increased noise didn’t bother Peter all that much as he slowly gulped down his third beer, Bucky eyeing him cautiously and telling the bartender in German that he wasn’t to get Peter anymore. Peter seemed unconcerned when the third one ran out and wasn’t replaced, though, too busy telling Bucky about Queens, Ned, MJ, Aunt May and Mr Stark. When the conversation shifted, though, Peter felt his eyes misting over.

“I just… I really loved him, you know?” Peter was murmuring. “He raised me. After my parents died I just… I don’t even remember them that well, but I know I loved them. And after they died, I only had Uncle Ben and Aunt May. And then he just… And I didn’t… I just think about it. All the time. You know?”

“I’m sorry kid,” Bucky murmured, sighing. “That’s too much. When I was your age my only concern was finding a pretty girl to bring to the Friday dance.”

“I guess, but I guess it’s just life, you know?” Peter sighed softly. His eyelids felt a little heavy, so he closed them for a moment, and when he opened them he gasped.

“Hey, you okay?” Bucky was asking, and Peter blinked, confused how he’d ended up leaning heavily against the other man’s shoulder, so he shook himself and nodded absently.

“Yeah, sorry,” Peter murmured, finding this position rather comfortable and so not even trying to move. Bucky only sighed and hoisted Peter up, nudging him gently.

“Come on kid,” Bucky murmured. “Let’s get you home. This has been quite a night, but it’s nearly after ten and you need to get to bed so you can sleep as much as you can before your headache tomorrow…”

“But m’not tired,” Peter murmured, stumbling along after Bucky.

“Yeah, I know kid,” Bucky replied absently. “Okay, come on, don’t fall over on me. You good? That night air feel good? The apartment is just down this way.”

“Yeah, yeah it’s good,” Peter nodded slowly, clarity slowly returning when the cold, winter air hit him. He glanced up, realizing that he was nearly hanging off of the man, stumbling along beside him, and though for a moment he considered jumping away and apologizing, Peter instead let himself relax, closing his eyes and continuing to let Bucky lead him. Oddly, his mind wasn’t particularly concerned with the fact that it was his birthday, or that he’d had his first drink, or gone in his first bar. Instead, his mind flicked to Tony, and Peter grinned against the cold night air. This entire situation felt sort of wrong to him, but he knew Mr Stark would have a fit. Normally that caused a soft stab of guilty to rush through him, but instead, right now, it felt sort of freeing. Scratch that, it felt great. Peter felt great, but it wasn’t because of his drinks. It was because he felt a soft stab of power shoot through him. It wasn’t the sort of power that came with swinging between buildings. It was the sort of power that came with knowing he could control his own decision, own destiny, and it made him feel very, very good. Peter had heard it all on the news. Tony Stark was utterly falling apart back in the US. Peter knew that should make him sad, but Tony hadn’t cared. Tony had left him behind, and now it was time for Peter to grow up and leave Tony behind.

Maybe Mr Stark drank to forget, but Peter was going to drink to remember. Peter wouldn’t let this tear him down, this was going to build him up. Tough love, that’s what Tony had called taking his suit away the first time. If Tony’s love was tough, Peter was tougher. If Tony was going to fall, Peter was going to rise. Peter had the suit now, and he was going to use it to help people. Tony now had restrictions on using the Iron Man suit, restrictions placed on him due to the Accords. Peter was no longer bound by any rules. Tony was hardly allowed to be a hero anymore, Peter was going to be the best hero this world had ever seen. One day, Peter decided, he would be at the top, but it wouldn’t be Mr Stark’s guidance that would be him there. Mr Stark couldn’t take credit for him anymore. There was one peice of guidance, though that Peter was going to take to heart. Peter planned on being a better person than Tony ever had been.

    Eventually Bucky helped him up the stairs to their apartment and pushed Steve away when he began to complain. Peter shut the noise out and insisted Bucky help him stumble into his room where he fell into bed, completely clothed and completely exhausted. And yet, despite feeling like he’d just finished studying for finals week, Peter smiled. This had been the best night of his life, and it wasn’t going to be the last. Peter was utterly determined about that. Sure, Mr Stark would have been appalled, but wasn’t that kind of the whole idea? Nodding to himself that yes, yes that was the whole idea, Peter smiled and finally let himself drift off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, whatcha think? I know I wrote Bucky a little different than a lot of authors do, but I feel like this characterization is very similar to his cannon persona previous to being the Winter Soldier, and I thought thah perhaps bringing around Steve for a while might bring out the old Bucky... 
> 
> Anyway, I’m very curious what you all think of this! What do you think Peter’s planning on doing with his new desire for something on the wild side of life?


	3. Don't Let Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written to the Bastille cover of Don't Let Go

_Free your body and_  
_Free your body and_  
_Free your body and your mind_

 _I often fantasize the stars above are watching you_  
_They know my heart and speak to yours like lovers only do_  
_If I could wear your clothes, I'd pretend I was you_  
_And lose control_

_Now, now wait a minute_

* * *

 

The next day, Peter did indeed wake with a splitting headache, but he remembered every moment of last night, and he felt himself bubbling rather than groaning against the soft pound in his head. Wrinkling his nose at the smell wafting off his clothes, Peter quickly changed and then slipped from the room, finding both Bucky and Steve eating lunch at the small wooden table, Peter smiled and slipped into the one free chair.

“Good afternoon,” Peter chirped. “Sorry I slept in.”

    “So,” Steve blinked once. “Last night.”

    “Yeah about it?” Peter asked innocently, blinking right back. “We got back just a little after ten, right? We were almost on time. I was just kind of slow walking… Sorry about that.”

    “Yes, slow walking,” Steve nodded stiffly, casting a glance at Bucky, who flushed, biting his lip and looking more than a little guilty. “I’m glad you had a good time. You deserved it after everything you’ve been through, but Bucky and I’ve discussed it and I’ll be taking your IDs. Both of them. Just in case. Last night was fun, but now we all need to stay in the apartment for a little while.”

    “Why?” Peter’s face fell.

    “Because we’re refugees? Because we’re playing it safe?” Steve explained patiently. “Come on now. I’m going out today for groceries. Just let me know if there’s something you want, and I’ll get it, but for a little while you’re staying here.”

    “Nothing bad happened last night,” Peter pointed out. “So what’s the problem?”

    “There isn’t any problem, we’re just playing it safe,” Steve sighed. “Please don’t make this difficult. Bucky and I, we’ve both been your age. I know last night was fun, but there needs to be a little break now from it.”

    Peter almost argued, but one look from Bucky had Peter caving, so he obediently retrieved the IDs, handing them over with a soft sigh.

    “What do I do now? Watch kid shows?” Peter muttered.

    “Let me know if there’s anything you want me to pick up for you,” Steve told him earnestly. “A good book, or a… toy of some kind.”

    “A science book? Peter asked hopefully. When Steve nodded, Peter managed to break into a genuine smile. “Okay, thank you. That’d be really nice actually.”

    “Of course,” Steve smiled. “You’re not a prisoner here, we’re just making sure you stay safe. Okay, I’ve got to go. Bucky, can you fix Peter lunch?”

    “I can fix my own lunch,” Peter reassured them both, making his way into the kitchen and biting his lip when he gazed into the rather sad, empty ice box. A soft click at the door told Peter that Steve was on his way, so Peter shut the freezer door and sidelined thoughts of eating in favor of joining Bucky, who was not sprawled on the couch.

    “I thought you were going to eat?” Bucky raised his eyebrows.

    “I will, later,” Peter nodded, “i’m just not hungry right now. I’m more… Curious. Last night, it was fun right?”

    “Oh yes, it was very fun,” Bucky grinned despite himself.

    “So why are you letting Steve take away my IDs?”

    Bucky turned, clearly surprised by Peter’s question, and hummed once.

    “Well, you do need to take it slow, kid,” Bucky replied. “I mean… You had three pints last night. That’s a lot, even for me. I was surprised you did as well as you did, considering.”

    “Spider metabolism,” Peter replied. “Or I assume that’s why. I was fine, still am, though I’ve got a little headache.”

    “I’m sure,” Bucky muttered.

    “Anyways,” Peter pushed on, sitting a bit closer to Bucky. “Drinking wasn’t the only fun part about last night.”

    “Oh?” Bucky raised his eyebrows, amused. “And what else was fun?”

    “You were.”

    The moment of silence that stretched out after that was much too long to be comfortable, and then to Peter’s displeasure Bucky was standing and taking three steps back, his eyebrows still raised like he’s just heard the most shocking piece of information in the known universe.

    “Whoa, hold up there kiddo,” Bucky raised his hands in a clearly defensive position. “That’s… A nice complement and all but I think maybe you got the wrong idea. I was taking you out for a bit of fun and drink. That’s it, right?”

    “Last night was very fun,” Peter echoed, sliding to the edge of the couch. He leaned his chin on his crossed arms, settled comfortably against the edge of the sofa.

“Look, kid, it was fun, for drinking, but I think you picked up on kind of the wrong idea, somehow. You’re a nice kid, a good kid, and you deserve to find another good kid somewhere. You deserve to still be going to high school, to be living with your aunt and talking about Star Wars with your friend Ned. All of that has already been taken from you, and there’s no way in hell, excuse my language, that I’m taking any more of your youth away.”

“I’m old enough to be choosing for myself here,” Peter echoed Bucky from the night before. Sighing, the man pinched in between his eyebrows and shook his head.

“Look,” Bucky finally spoke after a long moment. “When I said that, I didn’t mean something like this?”

“Oh? Didn’t you?” Peter questioned, raising his eyebrows curiously. “Drinking, this, what’s the difference? Anyway, in America people can do whatever they want with whoever they want long before they can drink.”

“Look,” Bucky sighed deeply, slowly moving to sit on the couch beside Peter. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that, didn’t say any of this, and we’re going to move forward from here with a clear understanding. I’m not interested, okay? I’m sorry, but no. You’re just a kid. This must all seem really confusing to you, really scary, I get that, and if you ever need any help, anyone to talk to, I’m here. But we can’t… Do this. Okay? We shouldn’t.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t, but does that mean you don’t want to?” Peter pushed, sliding just an inch closer, so that he was breathing into Bucky’s space, the man sitting stiff and silent. After a moment, Peter urged, “Well?”

“What I want and what I do are two different things. Sometimes there’s things we want, kid, that we can’t have. That’s just the way the world is. Asking if I want to do anything is irrelevant when we simply can’t,” Bucky replied.

“So you really don’t want to, really don’t like me?” Peter’s face fell slightly, and he began to sit back with a soft sigh. “It’s okay, I get it.”

“Kid, I didn’t say that I didn’t want to or that you’re not… Nice. I simply said that we shouldn’t, okay? And-” Bucky was going to continue, but he was cut off all too quickly. It only lasted a matter of seconds, but it might as well have been an eternity before Bucky was pushing Peter away with a strangled sound, his eyes wide. Peter, for one, almost seemed equally shocked, and his breath came in short huffs. There was a long moment of silence, before Bucky’s face turned dark. Swallowing hard, Bucky stood, and then in a gruff voice he commanded, “Alright, that’s it. Go to you room. Now! No arguing. Go. Now. I mean it.”

Peter stared at the man, still apparently in some level of shock, his eyes wide as saucers, before he shakily nodded, scrambling off the sofa and down the hall, before he disappeared into his room. Bucky stared after him for several long moments, before he let out a strangled sigh and collapsed back onto the sofa, running his hands through his hair and pressing his eyes shut.

***

    Dinner, that night, was an incredibly awkward affair. When Steve had bustled into the apartment bearing groceries and three science books written in English, Bucky hadn’t said a word about the earlier events and asked Steve to be the one to deliver the books to Peter. Peter didn’t emerge from his room until around six, at which point his stomach was absolutely aching so he was pleasantly surprised to see Steve preparing something that smelled delicious. Peter tousled his hair and flopped onto the couch to watch the news until Steve declared dinner done and ushered Peter away from the TV. Steve tried more than once to strike up conversation, asking about Bucky’s and Peter’s days. Bucky had been utterly silent, and had to refrain himself from staring at Peter for too long.

    Peter, on the other hand, had happily listed off interesting things he’d learned from the first book he’d started, and pretended not to notice the way Bucky rarely looked anywhere other than him. The man’s intense glare might’ve frightened Peter if he wasn’t so pleased about it. Steve didn’t seem at all the wiser, though, and instead just appeared mildly annoyed that Bucky was being so quiet.

When the meal finally ended, Steve wandered off to do the dishes, leaving Bucky and Peter sitting at the table across from each other.

“So,” Peter bubbled, bouncing slightly in his chair. “Do you like to read?”

“I was never really the reading type,” Bucky replied shortly, his mental first clenching tightly.

“Oh? I’ve always liked it, especially scientific journals. There’s this one magazine shop down on 16th that has the best science journals, but people usually don’t buy all of them, so sometimes they end up throwing them out, so I’d pick them out of the recycle bin in the alley.

“Uh huh,” Bucky muttered, teeth clenching.

“Yeah, but computers are better,” Peter went on, unphased. “I found the best stuff behind this one guy’s apartment. It said it was free, and so I took it and it all worked… it was great! Had all these old games on it and everything which is good cause video games are really expensive, you know?”

“Uh huh,” Bucky replied again.

“What did you like doing, back in the 40s?” Peter questioned innocently leaning across the table slightly, smiling brightly. Bucky stared at him for only a moment longer, before he stood and marched away, his bedroom door closing loudly behind him.

“Ouch, what got into him?” Steve looked up from the sink in surprise. “Everything okay?”

“I think so,” Peter nodded, staring after him. “Hey, you want to watch TV? Maybe there will be something with English subtitles.”

“Sure, what the heck? I think I’ve got some time for that,” Steve nodded, drying his hands off and then moving to sit on the couch, smiling and nodding for Peter to join him.

***

    That night, Peter went to bed early under the guise that he still had a little headache and really needed to get some sleep. Steve didn’t see any issue with that, and Bucky had never emerged from his room, so it was easy for Peter to slip into bed and pretend to be asleep until all the noise in the apartment fell silent. Once Peter was certain everyone else was asleep, he slipped out of bed, got dressed again, and then crept out into the hallway and over to the cabinet where he knew Steve had placed his ID. Quietly, Peter pulled the drawer open and then pulled his ID out, closing the drawer just as silently. It was easy, from there, to creep into his room and then sneak out the small window, stealing away into the darkness of Hamburg’s midnight.

    In the morning, Peter got out of bed slowly, stretched, and grinned at himself in the mirror. He certainly didn’t look any different, but he sort of felt different. The rest of the day was spent curled up on the couch with one of his books. Steve was in the kitchen, humming as he did something at the counter. Bucky emerged from his room once, stared at Peter, who smiled happily back and winked. It was only a matter of seconds before Bucky had grabbed something from the icebox and had then disappeared back into his room. Once again, dinner was fairly awkward, but Bucky spoke more tonight, explaining that he’d actually started reading something he’d found in the back of the closet. The book was in German, but it was simple enough for Bucky to understand, and the storyline was engaging enough to keep his interest. Peter listened with rapt attention, and when Steve wandered off to do the dishes again, Peter caught Bucky before he could disappear back into his room.

    “Hey,” Peter murmured, too soft for Steve to hear. “You okay? I’m sorry about the other day, if I freaked you out. It’s okay, I get it, really. Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ve moved on, it’s fine.”

    “Kid, I don’t know why you had to go and do that, but I wish you hadn’t,” Bucky muttered softly.

    “I’m sorry,” Peter glanced down, looking genuinely guilty. “We don’t ever had to do that again, okay? Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

    “I know,” Bucky sighed, running a hand down his face. “It’s fine, like I said. It’s not your fault…”

    Peter shrugged, and got up to leave, but Bucky put out an arm to stop him, his hand landing on Peter’s shoulder.

“Kiddo, wait a sec, I just wanted to know one thing,” Bucky stated. “When you did it… I  pushed you away. I didn’t hurt you, right?’

    “Not in the least,” Peter shook his head.

    “And Peter,’ Bucky added. “After the kiss, were you upset? I mean, was it bad?”

    “Not in the least,” Peter replied earnestly. Bucky gazed at him for a moment, before nodding slightly. His eyes went to his hand on Peter’s shoulder, and he quickly pulled it away, murmuring an apology and then returning to his room. Peter gazed after him for several long moments, before moving back to the couch where he curled up and continued to read.

    The next week or so continued in very much the same manner. It was easy for Peter to sneak out each night, and though occasionally Peter sort of wished Bucky hadn’t so blatantly rejected him, Peter felt sort of guilty about the whole thing. Still, he couldn’t help the soft shiver of satisfaction that shot through him every time Bucky sent him one of those long, lingering looks. Nor could he help the fact that those few moments during the kiss had been the best moments of Peter’s life. It hadn’t been just because of the kiss, though, it had also been because those moments had been incredibly freeing. It had felt like a rush of sudden control in his life, of which he had so little these days. He was tired of feeling like he was at the whims of the world. During those few moments, it was almost like the world was at the world was at the whims of Peter.

    And so, each night, Peter snuck out to the bar. At first no one had stuck, no one had been interesting enough, until a week and a half had passed, and Peter had met Norman. Norman wasn’t just interesting, he was fascinating. Everything between them had happened under flickering neon lights, though, which was fine initially, but Peter longed for something else. He was so incredibly lonely in the apartment, and so incredibly eager to change, to prove himself more than just a kid. And so, one Saturday morning at breakfast, Peter cleared his throat until he got Steve’s and Bucky’s attention.

    “Got something to say, kiddo?” Steve asked, smiling brightly at Peter. The look Bucky gave him almost made Peter change his mind and shut up, but still he pushed onwards, glancing quickly at the darker man before looking away.

    “Yeah, I think I’m going to go out today,” Peter spoke, eyes flickering back to Bucky quickly.

    “Out?” Steve raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Out where?”

    “Just… Out. See, I… I met someone, and he invited me to lunch,” Peter explained quietly, which only made Steve’s surprise, and now concern, double. Bucky, meanwhile, frowned deeply, his hand tightening into a fist again.

    “Met someone,” Steve repeated slowly. “You haven’t been out of this apartment in… More than a week. How in the world did you manage to meet someone?”

    “Well…” Peter flushed, shifting nervously. “See, the thing is, that isn’t exactly true. I wouldn’t even be saying anything now, except it’s lunch, and so I… I didn’t want to worry you both by sneaking out during the day and then if you couldn’t find me… I’d feel bad, you know? He’s really nice, I promise.”

    “Sneaking out?” Bucky finally spoke, his voice a soft hiss that made even Steve jump slightly. “What is this about, sneaking out? How long has this been going on? How in the world have you been managing to sneak out?”

    “Well I… I did it all the time in New York, it isn’t hard. Anyway, you don’t need to worry. I can take care of myself-”

    “How long?” Bucky repeated.

    “Well… Sort of since that first night, since we went to the bar.”

    Bucky’s nostrils flared, before he swore softly and got up to pace around the apartment, leaving Steve to simply stare and flounder for something to say for several moments.

    “I promise he’s nice,” Peter repeated softly. “He’s coming to pick me up.”

    “He knows where we live?” Bucky hissed, spinning.

    “Well… Yeah, but he thinks I’m named Pietro Freitag. It’s fine, I promise, I haven’t given anything away-”

    “Like hell you haven’t,” Bucky spat, returning to pacing the apartment.

    “Bucky,” Steve hissed, annoyed, before turning back to Peter and sighing deeply. “Kid, look, there’s no way you can go with him. You know that. This is the exact reason why I took your ID away. Sneaking out? I’m… Very disappointed in you. If you wanted to go out so much you… You should have told us, or something!”

    “You didn’t want me to, and I didn’t want to worry you,” Peter argued meekly. “It’s fine, seriously. Please, I just… He’s really nice, I promise. Bucky, you understand, don’t you?”

    “No, frankly I don’t,” Bucky spat, before turning and leaning heavily against the wall.

    “Look, please? You two don’t understand. Being cooped up here, it sucks! I want to go home, I want this to all end, but it won’t, I know that. So I figured I might as well make the best of what I do have.”

    “You can’t go out with some guy you met at a bar in Hamburg less than a week ago when you’re a fugitive on the run. That is absolute no,” Bucky declared, glaring at Peter. “End of discussion.”

    Peter opened his mouth to speak again, but instead there was a soft knock at the door, and everyone froze.

“That’ll be him,” Peter murmured meekly. He glanced quickly back at Steve and Bucky, before moving towards the door.

“We can’t both be seen here, it’ll be too much of a tip,” Bucky muttered to Steve. “Go, I’ll handle this.”

Steve hesitated, but with a final glance at Peter, he nodded and then slipped into a back room.

“Bucky please, give him a chance?” Peter begged. “Please, be nice?”

With that, Peter opened the door with a falsely bright smile, and Bucky felt like throwing up, or throwing something glass across the room. Either one. Standing there was a man that could only be described as slippery, dressed in a polished black suit with polished back dress shoes, and polished slick hair.

“Hey Petey,” the man smiled at Peter, who easily moved to fit under the man’s big arm. The man then spotted Bucky, and his eyebrows raised. “Who’s that?”

“My… brother,” Peter lied. “But don’t worry, we can go now.”

“No,” Bucky suddenly interrupted, stalking forward, his gaze dangerous. “But you can go now, whoever you are. And you take your hands off of him.”

“Excuse me, sir, but I believe this young man has the ability to decide what he wants,” Norman purred gently, fitting his hand into Peter’s back pocket, and it took all of Bucky’s self control not to pummel him.

“No,” Bucky repeated, his voice only growing more dangerous. “He does not have the ability to decide this. Now you get out of my house, before I make you get out.”

“Sir-”

“I said get out,” Bucky roared, and Peter flinched violently, hurt flashing onto his face, but Norman seemed unconcerned.

“Mr Freitag,” Norman spoke, his voice smooth and calming. “I’m concerned, you know, for Peter. You seem very prone to violent outbursts. I’m not certain that it’s safe for him here. I’m going to take Peter to lunch because frankly I’m not certain you’re feeding him right, and then if I think it’s safe I’ll return him. But I do think you should control your temper.”

With a firm tug, Norman turned towards the door, but for the first time, Peter hesitated, biting his lip.

“You know, my brother isn’t violent,” Peter murmured uneasily. “Besides, you can’t just…. Choose not to… To return me.”

“Oh Pietro, dear,” Norman purred. “I can do as I choose when your best interests are involved. Now come along.”

But this time, Peter really hesitated, swallowing uneasily and digging his heels into the carpet when Norman gave him another tug.

“Wait,” Peter hesitated, eyes narrowing slightly. “Actually, I changed my mind, I’m not sure I do want to go to lunch, actually. I’m not sure I’m hungry. Sorry, I… Maybe another day?”

“Peter,” Norman purred, clucking his tongue patronizingly. “Come along, dear, don’t you remember? We have an agreement.”

“Agreement?” Bucky’s voice was utterly dangerous, his eyes narrowing at Peter.

“Oh, yes,” Norman replied as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Last night, we drew it up together, didn’t we Petey?”

Somehow scheming with Norman under fluorescent neon lights between chaste kisses was a whole lot easier than thinking about his signature on the slip of paper in broad daylight, Bucky’s eyes dangerous, so Peter could only meekly nod, murmuring, “Yeah, I… We do, and it’s fine, really… Hans.” Peter stared pointedly at Bucky, trying to come up with some vaguely German sounding name as fast as possible.

“Let me see it,” Bucky growled, snatching the paper from Norman the moment he produced it from inside his coat. His eyes flicked over the document quickly, narrowing and widening spontaneously. When he reached the bottom on the document, Bucky blinked twice, and then with utterly no warning he looked up, and spat, “Get the fuck out of this house. Now.”

“Hans-” Norman began, but Bucky was faster. Shredding the document, Bucky tossed the bits of paper into Norman’s face.

“I said get out!” Bucky shouted loud enough to make Peter flinch. Norman cast a quick look at Peter, before apparently deciding to cut his losses, letting the boy go and dashing away down the hall. It wasn’t until he’d descended the stairs that Bucky’s pants slowed and his heart returned to a half normal beat. Peter, however, was left feeling torn. On the one hand, he was kind of glad to be rid of the man who’d suddenly started rubbing him quite the wrong way, but on the other hand, there went his chance for an escape from this hole of an apartment. He opened his mouth, maybe to apologize, he hadn’t figured it out yet, but Bucky spoke first. “Don’t, don’t say one word. You are not leaving this house, do you hear me? Steve and I are locking your cards away.You are not going back to that bar! ”

“You… You can’t just make these decisions for me!” Peter suddenly cried, going on the defensive.

“Yes, actually we can, and if we have to nail your window shut, so be it!” Bucky growled as Steve emerged, pushing the two apart.

“Hey, hey!” Steve intervened, frowning at both of them. “Stop, you two. Come on, let’s sit down and talk about this, yes?”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” Peter interrupted, stepping past Steve to glare up at Bucky. “You all took me away from everything! I can’t see my school anymore, I can’t see my friends anymore, I can’t even see my aunt anymore, I just… I want to go home, okay? But I can’t! So don’t tell me what else I can’t do, because I’m sick of it! If you lock my windows I’ll just… I’ll find another way out! And I’ll find another guy, and another, and another, because I need someone, because no one understands! I just want someone to understand, but you don’t and I just… You can’t tell me what to do, you can’t control me, so don’t even try. I’ll just always get out, and maybe one day I won’t come back, but that’ll be my choice, but I can’t just stay here anymore just sitting, and thinking, andy missing everyone. I can’t do it anymore!”

“Peter, kid, just hold up there. Let’s talk about this, okay?” Steve spoke up gently, but Peter simply turned away.

“No, you could never understand,” Peter muttered, facing the wall because he didn’t want either man to see anger tears welling in his eyes. “You don’t get what it’s like to lose everything in one day, to have it all taken away. You’re Captain America, you’re like the best person in the whole world. But maybe I don’t want to be a good person anymore, because then the people you care about still leave, and it doesn’t even matter. It doesn’t matter if you’re a good person, you’re still just a freak and you get locked in a cage like a monster by the good people, by your friend, and it doesn’t even matter! In the end nothing even matters, but you don’t get that so just… Just leave me alone…”

“Kid-”

“I said leave me alone!” Peter jerked away from the hand Steve had placed on his arm, and Peter dashed down the hall to his room, slamming the door. Steve sighed and flopped into a kitchen chair, running a hand through his hair.

“He’ll cool off,” Steve decided. “If we just give him time. He’ll be okay.”

Bucky nodded slowly, gazing down the hall at Peter’s door, before slinking back into his room and running his hands along the cover of his book, _Goethe's Faust_.

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you think? Comments really help feed my inspiration :)


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